“Why do dogs risk getting bugs in their eyes sticking their heads out of car windows?  Tell your friends you have asked the most profound question that has ever been asked.  You have given us an opportunity to give the answer we have been waiting a very long time to give: and that is because the contrast of the bugs in the eye is a small price to pay for the exhilaration of that ride.  It is exactly the same way you felt when you made the decision to come into this physical existence.  It is exactly the same way you felt when you knew there would be contrast and you said the ride is gonna be worth it,” Esther, Abraham Hicks.  I saw this clip from a conference/seminar Hicks gave and a gentleman, frankly looking cynical, approached the podium to ask his question and the question was basically if dogs know they are going to get bugs in their eyes sticking their heads out the window during car rides, why do they do it?  Sometimes it is the simple things that give us the answers we seek.  Sometimes there doesn’t have to be a master plan. We stick our head out the window because it’s fun.  There is no other feeling like it and we want to experience it.  Hicks says that this is the most important thing in life: to enjoy the experience of it and to learn.

That’s a feeling we capture all too well when we’re kids.  We don’t think about the long term, we take the risk in the moment because it seems like fun.  There were no other criteria.  If it seemed like it would be fun, if it was something new to try, that was enough.  The audacity of children is something else—they take this living in the moment thing seriously, ever present with what they want to do now.  Have you ever tried to tell your 8 year old to stop video gaming because you had to run to the store?  It’s because they remember something we don’t: all we have is now.  We’ve created this sense of urgency in the world with an endless series of to do lists, expectations, obligations, and calendar invites curated on a social media platform.  We settle for filling our days with things to do rather than curating and creating them—someone else’s schedule.  How often do we look at our days ahead and go, “That’s exactly what I want that day to look like”?   And if we are able to say that, how much of that day is around fun?

As we age and become indoctrinated into a system, a vast majority of us lose the ability to connect with the level of freedom and zest we experience as kids.  I don’t know why we made the expectation of growing up synonymous with seriousness.  We confused maturity with a shedding of playfulness. We forgot that playfulness was a key to creativity and expansion.  No one was born into this world to keep a balance sheet on their lives that dictates when they are allowed to feel joy, play, creativity—we were born to run, to feel the joys life has to offer and to create some of that joy.  We don’t have to earn the right to exist.  As soon as we started putting markers on what time and effort were worth (money), as soon as we created a hierarchy of who got to decide what was important, a hierarchy that decided who was worthy of surviving v. thriving,  we lost an incredibly important part of our humanity:  the inherent value of getting in touch with what calls to us and what we can create. I don’t pretend that there isn’t a need for some sort of structure in our lives—I just don’t think we need to run the gauntlet every day to prove we are worthy of what calls to us. There is nothing wrong with having standards but we don’t need to equate success with how much we have weight ourselves down in order to climb through the rubble.  We don’t need to make the meaning in our lives based on how much shit we can take.  It’s ok to release some of that pressure.  We need to find the value in all people—because we all have a purpose that has value.  The point of life isn’t to check off the most boxes and accumulate the most stuff—it’s to enjoy the ride.  Some people’s lives take them in different directions, and if we are doing it right that is exactly what is meant to happen.  Cookie cutter existence keeps people in line so the few can control the many.  We were taught that keeping in line is safe—but that safety is never guaranteed when the person who says where the line goes determines it needs to be something else.  And there is nothing safe about repressing our own calling to appease/fulfill someone else’s goal.  That’s called repression. There is an inherent wisdom in children, and I learn from my son every day.  I need to heed that a bit more—we all do.  We all need to remember why we choose to stick our head out the window even if we get a little messy in the process.